I Bet You

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  He glances at me. “What’s that?”

  “I lied about playing pool. I don’t know a pool cue from a fishing rod. In fact, I’m probably a much better fisherman. I wouldn’t know what an eight ball was if I didn’t have the big one that tells your future when you shake it. I lied because I was nervous, and I wanted you to like me. In retrospect, it was stupid, and I’m sorry I misled you.” I let out a huge breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “Damn that feels good.”

  His eyes flare, and he’s silent as he pulls up to my house and puts the car in park. The vehicle idles at the curb as the silence between us swells. I can tell he’s gathering himself.

  “I’ve shocked you.”

  He stares out the front windshield and rakes a hand through his hair. “That’s a lot to take in.”

  “I don’t advocate lying. I didn’t plan to do it, but when you asked me about pool, I wanted to impress you. I’ve always thought you were studious and just my type…” I stop. I’m rambling.

  He turns the car off and turns to face me. “Okay.”

  I take another breath. “And I hit you with that ball tonight. Actually, it was the first time I’ve even picked up a pool stick, so it’s no wonder I nearly killed you. God, you should have seen that white ball flying through the air…it just zeroed in on you, like fate was trying to tell me something. I really thought it was going to hit you in your man parts.”

  He pales.

  “I mean, thank God it didn’t.” A small laugh comes out of me. “Ryker really wanted me to learn how to play…” I bite my lip.

  Connor shakes his head and adjusts his glasses, looking befuddled. He pauses. “Do you even like Elvis?”

  “Not particularly.”

  He grimaces.

  “Yeah. I suck.” I exhale, my fingers undoing my seat belt. “Anyway, I’m really sorry, and I completely understand if you never speak to me again. We do have class together, but I won’t be offended if you just ignore me and keep on walking.” I smile wryly at him.

  He frowns. “I would have liked you anyway.”

  “Again, I’m sorry.” I put my hand on the door handle. “Thank you for the ride.” I take a deep breath and get out of the car, shutting the door.

  “Wait.” He gets out and comes over to where I’m waiting at the curb. “You did all that just to go out with me?”

  “Not my most shining moment.”

  “It is flattering though.” A sheepish grin grows on his face. “I’m not a hot jock, ya know, so I’m surprised you went that far.”

  I smile, feeling a teensy bit better. “You’re a unicorn. Any girl would love to be with you.”

  He studies my face. “So do you still want to go out? With no pool playing involved?”

  “Ah…you’re very nice, Connor, but…”

  The silence grows as we look at each other.

  I shake my head. “You really aren’t my type.”

  He shakes his head and points a finger at me knowingly. “Ah. Ryker. I knew it. It’s been him since the beginning.” His eyes widen. “Wait—was that kiss in the bookstore real?”

  I sigh and shrug.

  “Interesting,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets. “You know I saw the whole thing, right? I also recall your arms were around him, so—”

  “I was there,” I say.

  “Mmhmm.” He laughs and looks down at his feet. “Look, I should have noticed you sooner and asked you out a long time ago, and maybe this would have all gone down a lot differently—”

  “Let’s try something,” I say, interrupting him and taking a step closer. “Kiss me.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “What? Why?”

  “Let’s call it an experiment,” I answer. I need to know if I’m just such a hard-up virgin, any kind of male attention gets me going.

  He studies me for a moment. “You’re not going to slap me?”

  I smile. “Nope. I promise.”

  “Okay.”

  I straighten as if preparing for battle as he cups my shoulders and leans in. His head lowers, and his lips touch mine, the pressure gentle.

  He eases back a few second later. “Anything?”

  “No,” I murmur. Not even a twitch. “But you’re great,” I add brightly.

  “Damn.” He grins. “Friends?”

  I nod. “Yeah. For sure.”

  “Good luck,” he calls out to me as he walks back around to his side of the car.

  He pulls away and I watch him go.

  And there you go. Welcome to the end of an era. Maybe he was always built up in my head anyway, a way to keep myself occupied and distracted from other things.

  Like my mom.

  Like Ryker.

  I take the sidewalk up to the front porch and see a white piece of paper tucked between my door and the frame.

  I rip it open, remembering the last time I found a note on my porch.

  I bought you a tire and changed it. You shouldn’t be driving on a spare. Call me in the morning, and I’ll take you to the Waverly to get it before class.

  Ryker.

  PS. Don’t worry about that agent dude. You got this.

  My fingers trace the llama he drew at the bottom.

  God. My heart dips. Ryker Voss is one complicated man. He did all this—yet he pushes me as far away from him as he can.

  I go inside, and I’m a little giddy from not having the hassle of messing with my car. Part of it, too, is that I told Connor everything. Acceptance is a beautiful thing, and I want to revel in it.

  “Pen! Shit!” Vampire Bill’s squawk makes me smile as I walk past him. I give him a cracker from the box next to his cage.

  “Good boy!”

  I grab my phone and a glass of prosecco then head to my bedroom, where I change into a camisole and a pair of lace shorts. After that, I get Vampire Bill situated on the desk in my room, tell him good night, and crawl into bed.

  I’m right in the middle of reading when my phone pings and I dive on it, expecting Ryker.

  It’s my dad. I quickly scan the messages he sent earlier that I didn’t see. I skim past them to read the most recent one.

  When I didn’t hear from you, I called Walter. He gave me the rundown. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.

  I sigh and respond. It’s okay. I appreciate the help. I didn’t expect you to do that. Thank you.

  Good night, he sends, and I respond likewise.

  On a whim, before I can change my mind, I type out, I’ll come over for lasagna soon.

  I set my phone down, moving on and thinking about Ryker. My fingers pluck at the edges of my sheets.

  Forget waiting until morning to talk to him.

  I drain my drink and dig deep for the nerve to initiate a text. It’s easier than talking to him face to face anyway. Perhaps it’s because when we text, we don’t worry about the repercussions of our words. We just talk and there’s no pressure.

  Thank you for everything, I send to Ryker. I owe you.

  His reply is immediate.

  You’re home?

  Yeah.

  Alone?

  Of course, I reply.

  Are you in bed?

  Yes. My heart kicks up, and my chest rises.

  Is your head against Edward’s face?

  I laugh out loud and Vampire Bill glares at me. “What?” I say to him. “Ryker’s funny.”

  The sparkly vampire is on my pillow, I reply.

  So, if I shave my chest hair off and toss on some glitter lotion, you’ll be into me?

  I burst out laughing. Maybe.

  Done.

  OMG. Stop teasing me. I’m giggling.

  Who said I was teasing?

  I smirk. Okay, so the next time we watch a movie, you get to pick.

  I’ll pick the Avengers.

  I can get down with Thor.

  On second thought, I’ll go with Texas Chain Saw Massacre.

  I sigh, a smile on my face.

  I need to go, he types a few minutes later af
ter we’ve been texting for a while and I’ve lost track of time. We make plans for him to pick me up at eight in the morning the next day to take me to get my car.

  I wanted to say something first. My heart thunders as I nibble on the inside of my cheek. I told Connor the truth. He knows.

  There’s a long pause, and I’m holding my breath as I wait for his reply. The tension builds inside me, and my mind races, trying to figure out what Ryker is thinking.

  Smart move. You’re never going to be a pool shark. When’s your next date with him?

  I smirk. Ryker has assumed Connor wouldn’t care that I lied. Men. There isn’t one.

  Why? he sends back immediately.

  I open my nightstand drawer that houses my collection of lip balm. I swipe on some mango and stare at my phone. God. What do I say? This feels like a significant moment.

  I’ll have to tell you in person.

  Tell me now, he sends.

  I picture him in his bed sending the message, his face intense.

  Why?

  You know why, Red.

  Even though he’s not here in the room, I sense the alpha male in him coming through the phone, the command in his tone. Heat pools in my lower body, and I squirm on the bed.

  Several moments have gone by and I think maybe he’s done texting me—but then a new one comes through…and I die.

  You were meant for me, he sends.

  I can’t breathe. Looking down at his words, I read them over and over, my heart pounding.

  Something has changed. I feel the shift in my heart, opening up.

  I toss my phone across the room, and it scares Vampire Bill.

  “Shit! Ryker!” he squawks.

  Penelope

  The sound of knocking on my front door comes about fifteen minutes later.

  Vampire Bill is squawking like crazy as I jump up, grab my long cardigan, and slip it on over my shoulders. I run to Charisma’s room and open the door. She isn’t there, and I exhale, recalling a message saying she was staying over with someone.

  A knock comes again, and I fly into the den with my pepper spray in hand.

  “Who is it?” I shout, once again cursing the fact that I don’t have a peephole. I really need to get one installed.

  “Ryker. You didn’t reply to my text. Did you really think I was just going to let that go?” His voice is dry.

  I dash the few steps over to the hall mirror and check my appearance. I look…insane. My hair is poking out in crazy places everywhere, and I do my best to smooth it down. One side of my face has a bit of drool from where I had just fallen asleep, and I scrub at it frantically.

  “Penelope. Open the door.” I hear a quietness in his tone that makes me work even faster.

  I jerk open the hall drawer, pull out a tube of lip balm, and slap it on. It’s not my preferred color tint, but what’s a girl to do when she has a six-foot-four sexy man outside her door? You gotta take what you can get.

  And my boobs. Shit! I have no padding. Nothing but a lace camisole. I tug the sweater around me.

  “Give me a minute,” I call out and turn toward my bedroom. Maybe I have time to put on a bra—

  “Nope, Red. Now.” Oh. There’s that teeny bit of command in his tone, and I like it.

  Squaring my shoulders, I turn back around and fling open the door.

  Wearing black gym shorts and a button-up white shirt—very confusing—his broad shoulders shift as he slouches against my doorframe. His hair is brilliantly mussed and his eyes gleam.

  Crazy outfit or not, he is gorgeous. “Kinda late for a visit. I’d definitely classify this as booty call category.”

  He straightens up and rakes stormy eyes over me, lingering on my lips. “You put on lipstick.”

  “It’s tinted lip balm.”

  He grins. “You only put that stuff on when you’re nervous.”

  “Not true.”

  “Don’t even try with me.”

  A smirk plays around his full lips, and I let out an exhale. “Did you drive all the way over here to discuss my makeup routine?”

  His eyes glitter. “Invite me in. Isn’t that what you have to do for vampires?”

  I give him a quizzical look. “No, not all vampires. It’s different depending on who wrote the book. Twilight’s vamps can enter any door they want, but Stephen King’s scary vampires in Salem’s Lot have to be invited inside.” I wrinkle my nose. “His version is particularly scary. Razor sharp teeth, black eyeballs.” I take a big breath. I’m rambling.

  “I’ll let you tell me all about it if you want.” His eyes flash to the inside of my house. “I want to come inside.” The silky sound of his voice vibrates every atom inside me.

  Come inside…

  I’m thinking bad thoughts.

  “Why?” My voice is wobbly with nerves. I grip the door. “There’s only one reason a guy shows up at a girl’s house at one in the morning.”

  “But you aren’t that kind of girl,” he says softly, his gaze lingering on my chest and working its way down to my legs. His eyes come back to mine and I falter, seeing the way his have darkened. “Goddamn, you’re beautiful.”

  I suck in a breath.

  He huffs out a laugh and props a muscled bicep against the doorframe then leans down until our faces are inches apart. “You ignored my text, Red. You ignored a text where I said some pretty revealing shit. I’m not sure how I feel about that.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Should I be pissed off? Should I pretend it never happened? Or better yet, should I just come over here and prove to you that I meant every word?” He pauses and pretends to think. “But you know, in a way, I’ve been doing that already. I feel like I’m always proving shit to you. Hell, I spent two hours fixing your car tonight. What else do you need to see that I’m the one you want?”

  “You left me at Cadillac’s with another guy!”

  “So you could see you didn’t really want him.”

  My mouth is open, and I quickly shut it. My body, which has a mind of its own, leans toward him until I’m standing on the threshold, our bodies an inch from touching. “I want you,” I say.

  He cups my face, his blue-green eyes at half-mast. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?”

  “How long?” I ask on an exhalation, our breaths mingling. He smells like toothpaste and it makes me smile. He prepared before coming here.

  “Maybe since the moment you wrote that article, and I saw you on campus and made the connection. You don’t care who I am. You’re the most honest person I know.”

  “So before I spilled water on you?”

  He laughs.

  Butterflies flip in my stomach. I tug on his shirt until his lips are a breath away from mine. “Then shut up and kiss me.”

  He captures my mouth and murmurs my name as his hands go to my lower back, pressing me against him. Forget that bookstore kiss. Forget every kiss I’ve ever had. This one is real. This one is fire and ice and burns so good. His tongue tangles with mine, going deeper, searching and tasting me. His lips consume me and I give it back just as good, our mouths battling for dominance. He pushes his hands into my hair and I moan as his teeth nip at me, his tongue insistent. Need and desire build momentum within me, and I think I might combust from a kiss alone. This. Him. I’ve wanted him forever. Maybe back to the first time I saw him come out of that bathroom at the Tau house with only a towel wrapped around him.

  He stops to breathe, his forehead resting against mine as our chests heave. “Fuck me, Red. You’re on fire.” He presses his mouth against my neck and sucks hard, and I groan at the flashes of electricity it sends straight to my core.

  “I’m so glad you came for me,” I whisper.

  He pauses, and I look up to see his throat working. “I like those words on your lips.”

  I take his hand in mine, and we walk inside. He shuts the door and turns back to face me.

  My chest is heaving. His is too. My eyes flick down to the bulge in his gym shorts. God. He’s probably huge.

/>   My eyes fly up to his face, and he’s wearing a smirk, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. His eyes go to my notebook on the desk. “You been writing in your notebook about me?” he asks, and it’s such a non sequitur that I shake my head.

  Realization dawns and I gape. “You read the Holy Grail?”

  He holds his hands out. “At Sugar’s, but before you freak out, I didn’t mean to.”

  “What part did you see?”

  “Where the Duke of Waylon ravishes the virgin with his big cock.”

  I blink, adjusting to the knowledge. “Well, you seem to have gotten the gist of it.”

  He trails a finger down to my sweater and unbuttons the first button. His lips brush my collarbone. “I can make it come true.”

  “Big appendage and all?”

  He undoes another button, eyes like fire as they brush over me. “Oh, Red, you have no idea.”

  I don’t. I really don’t. “I’m a virgin. I know I told you already, but I feel the need to point it out again.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” He undoes the next button and parts the sweater until the lace bodice of my camisole appears. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

  “Well, don’t get your hopes up.” I wave my hands around my chest. “This is all smoke and mirrors. My bras are all padded.”

  “Is that so?” He gives me a hot look as he unbuttons the last one and pushes the cardigan off my arms. It drops to the floor, forgotten. With a slight brush of his fingers, he cups my breast through the camisole, his fingers tweaking my nipple. “You couldn’t be any more perfect.”

  His eyes hold mine and the air is electric.

  I’m going to die if he doesn’t do something soon.

  I must have spoken aloud because he chuckles and pushes the top of my camisole down, easing the delicate straps lower until the garment slides down and my breasts are free. My nipples rise to meet him as his head lowers and he kisses them. He cups me in his palms and massages, tugging until I clasp his head in my hands, gripping his scalp as his tongue toys with my peaks, taking them in his mouth and sucking. He’s gentle then rough and hard.

  I can’t breathe. Delicious sensation wraps around me. “Ryker.”

  “Hmmm,” he moans as he kisses up my neck to my ear. “Where’s your bed?” he whispers.